


On the Edge

by Sadistrix



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Edging, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadistrix/pseuds/Sadistrix
Summary: When she can cut him off just by tightening her grip, Sombra would be insane not to abuse that power.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Sombra | Olivia Colomar
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22
Collections: Unofficial FFA Unanon Collection





	On the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> I definitely thought about adding some more twisted undercurrent to this, but fuck it. The porn's the point anyway.

“S-Sombra,” Reaper hisses, the illusion ruined by the way his voice breaks. His hips push up into her hand, nearly unseating her, claws digging into the sides of his chair.

“Did you just stutter?” Sombra teases him, slowing the motion of her hand for a split second until Reaper groans. She adjusts her position atop his thighs and thumbs the ridge of his cock, just waiting for the moment he tries to push back up into her fingers or gasps so loudly she can hear it through his mask.

She hadn’t bothered to take it off. Reaper’s never been as easy a read as he is now: thighs trembling and clenching beneath her in turns, breathing coming fast and shallow. He’s hurtling towards that edge even faster than the last time. Not that Sombra plans to let him come anytime soon.

He swears, lifting a hand off the chair and then replacing it before Sombra can swat it away.

“Good boy,” she continues to taunt him, and when Reaper moans breathlessly instead of telling her off, Sombra laughs. “Something got your tongue?”

His claws tear into the arms of the chair at her sides and Sombra takes her hand off his cock with a cheeky flourish. His hips move as if to chase her touch then still again when it doesn’t come and Reaper groans. “Please-“

Sombra licks the precum off her fingers and smirks at him. “Awww,” she taps a finger against his mask, leaving behind a glistening wet fingerprint. Maybe he’ll bitch about it later; Sombra’s already looking forward to seeing if he dares. “It’s so cute when you beg me.”

“I didn’t say you should stop,” she adds a moment later, wiggling her fingers an inch or so from the tip of his cock as though she’s still debating whether or not to touch him again.

He shudders beneath her. Even the mockery is driving him to distraction now. “You’re incorrigible,” he growls.

Sombra flicks the underside of his cock and watches as Reaper’s hips twitch, hears his breath catch. He’s so reactive, straining for any little touch she’s willing to give. She laughs. “Don’t be getting shy on me now, Gabe.”

The noise he makes is somewhere between a groan and a snarl, no doubt ensnared somewhere between his own determination not to let Sombra fuck with him and the very real benefit to letting her get away with it anyway. She smirks at him and presses a fingertip to the head of his cock. “You were saying?”

“Please,” Reaper groans, shifting beneath her as though he has a prayer of bringing Sombra’s hand closer that way. “Touch me already. Sombra-“

“Hmm.” She pretends to consider that, dragging her fingers down the length of his cock and then wrapping them around the base once more.

“Right there,” he begs even before Sombra’s moved her hand. His cock twitches in her grasp, heavy and solid in a way that makes her mouth water. She’d want to sit on it even if he wasn’t her boss, and isn’t that just embarrassing. “Ah-“

“Now you’re talkative,” Sombra continues to tease. She goes deliberately slowly, taking her time, drawing it out until she’s forced another breathless exhalation out of him. It’s an almost electric excitement as she watches him react to every little motion of her fingers.

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Please.” There’s no hesitation this time, raw and urgent in a way that gives Sombra butterflies. “Sombra,”

She quickens the motion of her hand, bracing herself for the inevitable, but Reaper’s thighs pin her legs against the arms of the chair even as he pushes up into her touch. This time he grabs her by the hip, one huge, clawed glove spanning the entirety of her side, and Sombra doesn’t bother pushing him off again.

He can’t stop himself moving beneath her, straining after every last bit of contact, and while his hold is gentle for now - for him, at least - Sombra can feel his grip flex just as restlessly.

He lets his head fall back and groans. “Let me come,” he pleads, low and guttural and rough, and Sombra has to catch her own breath.

His thighs are trembling beneath hers. “How bad do you want it, Gabe?” Sombra urges him on.

She presses her forehead to the mask when he lifts his head again, listening for the raspy panting of his breath, and then it’s his turn not to push her away. His grip tightens, breath catching, and Sombra rewards him with another quick swipe of her thumb across the head of his cock.

The sound he makes in response comes from somewhere low in his throat and Sombra repeats the motion just to see if he’ll do it again. “Yeah?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Reaper echoes. He’s right there; Sombra can feel how tightly wound he is, how desperately he’s riding that edge. “Don’t stop. Please,”

She thinks about toying with him further and then does, loosening her grip on his cock until he’s trying to fuck up into the last little bit of friction he can get, already growling in frustration. Sombra has to loop her free arm around his neck to keep her balance and she laughs. “Where’s the fun in letting you off so easy?”

His claws dig into her side, just shy of breaking skin. “Please,” he repeats, a punched-out gasp that goes right to her clit, “Sombra. Let me - please-“

“I’m surprised you’re not making death threats yet,” she continues, barely managing enough mockery as Reaper continues to shift beneath her, chasing sensation that isn’t coming hard or fast enough.

He swears, claws tearing through Sombra’s clothing at last. Down that way lies danger; his self control only extends so far, but then, Sombra’s always considered that one of his more exciting features. “I’m about to be,” Reaper vows, but when she can cut him off just by tightening her grip, Sombra would be insane not to abuse that power.

“Uh huh,” she pretends to humor him for half a second and then gives a little twist of her hand just to hear him moan again. She’d barely let up; he’s still right there on the edge and helplessly reactive. Sombra grins at him and gets a better grip on the back of his hood before doubling down, confident he’ll let her get away with it. “I’ll even pretend you mean it...

"That is, if you’re planning to make me.”


End file.
